


There Is No Try

by pendragonness



Category: Arrested Development
Genre: Gob's entire existence is one long anxiety nightmare tbh, M/M, because we all want to burn that s5 ending, this is a little intense at times but eventually the fluffy resolution we deserve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-11-28 10:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18207365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendragonness/pseuds/pendragonness
Summary: A smart man makes a mistake, learns from it, and never makes that mistake again... Whether or not Gob Bluth was a smart man had always been questionable.





	1. Michael

**Author's Note:**

> First rough idea of a "after 5x16" scenario....let's see how this goes.
> 
> I hope/expect more and better things to come eventually but boy, I gotta get some feelings off my chest first. So here's this.

It had been a huge mistake.

“Just hands.”

What- what did that even _mean_?

“Just hands.”

What-Wh-why, why...would...hah! What, should- should- what should...should this… should he… they! They should..sh-sh-should..should they.. Hah! Wh-why, why should, should-

_First time, ever I saw your…_

“Gob!” Michael’s voice interrupted his internal crisis (his internal _analysis_ _,_ thank you very much) in a way similar to how a cat sounds when it feels it’s being ignored - a whiny, impatient noise that grated just so. And most days Gob liked Michael about as much as he liked cats. Very little.

“Yes, _Michael_?” He enunciated the name with enough precision to get his annoyance across.

“I asked you what you’re doing here, sitting alone, in the dark, in what I thought was supposed to be the abandoned beach house.”

As Michael spoke, he dropped the duffel bag that had been slung over his shoulder and studied his brother with that permanent frown set in the corners of his mouth. Gob found it a hilariously condescending-pouty look when directed at other people; when directed at him, it was insulting and infuriating.

“Well if it’s so abandoned Michael, what are you doing here?” He let his tone be as light and childish as possible - teasing, provoking his brother just as was deserved.

Michael stared, in that _way_ he had, and folded his arms. Gob shook the ice in his glass and searched for more whiskey at the bottom of it.

“Just had to come back, didn’t you?” He sneered and fumbled for the ailing bottle of outrageously priced liquor on the table beside him, poured a large, fresh glass, and gulped at it. Michael crinkled his nose in distaste. Gob took another gulp in response. “Didn’t even last a week! Michael aaaalways comes back… Well, don’t need you. No one needs you, not like you like to think.”

“What are you talking about?” Michael’s voice turned from needly to breathy with exasperation. “I drive away and suddenly Lucille Two’s body is found and Buster admits to it all? Sending mom into such shock she’s abandoned dad and locked herself into the country club’s premium privacy suites, causing dad to aimlessly head for Mexico again although God knows what he hopes to accomplish with that, Tobias I think has finally decided us Bluths just aren’t worth it and let’s be real here - is that a loss for any of us? So, well, I think he’s gone, George Michael of course is here with me to help, Lindsey has-”

“This isn’t about them, Michael!” Gob leapt up - or maybe it was more of a lurch - and interrupted with a full-bodied shout. “Or you! Come on! Don’t you know anything! This is about _me_! God! You don’t know anything!”

He knew the scene was coming across as a drunken tantrum, but he couldn’t stop it. He was hurt! He was mad! He was alone!

“This is about _me_!” Gob repeated, pacing now. “And you don’t- you don’t have any idea- how could you? You! Ha! No, no, you… Nope! No idea. And I, I just.. I just go on. Not even friends! Not friends, but hands - just hands!” His laugh was sudden and more than a little hysteric. “Just...just hands.”

Michael - bastard - didn’t miss a beat. He stared at the scene, brows raised in that _look_ , and lifted his chin in his typical half-nod of sudden realization. Typical, predictable Michael.

“This is you and Tony Wonder, isn’t it?” It wasn’t a real question. His hands were on his hips now, in that parental-way that made Gob want to grit his teeth most days.

But then a moment passed, Michael sighed and dropped his head a little, and Gob froze in his anxious pacing as his brother’s posture softened.

Oh no. This was worse.

“Gob, it’s...it doesn’t have to be as hard as you’re making it. I mean, I know. Or, I have known - well, not known - suspected maybe, before. There were things before, you know, where I wondered if you.. I mean, I’m just saying it wasn’t terribly surprising when- if-” Michael fumbled, trying out this uncomfortable sensation of being supportive and gentle toward his belligerent older brother.

He shifted and looked Gob in the eye, Gob, who was a couple days deep in whiskey and anxiety, and he tried harder. “Because why not, you know? Why not.” And then he did the best he could do to finish his speech of encouragement: he shrugged.

The brothers stared at each other in response to the terrible attempt at comfort that had just been expressed and the silence was fairly nauseating in its awkwardness. 

Yes, this was worse than Michael being dickish and judgmental and holier-than-thou. Gob wanted that. He wanted something he could argue with and fight against. But this? This...acceptance? Made it all more real. And that was worse.

He snorted, and not in the slightest bit politely. “Fuck, Michael, I really don’t know why you always come back. It’s not like you’re very helpful. Because frankly, that? Was awful.”

Michael rolled his eyes as Gob’s voice became cocky and degrading once again. Back to the usual. “Yeah,” he sighed, wondering why he ever tried.

Gob grabbed a jacket and sloppily found his keys, struggling with both as he spoke. “I don’t need your help Michael, because this is not about you. This is about me. And I can do this.”

“No, you can’t,” Michael snatched the keyring dangling from the other man’s fingers. “I’m pretty sure half your body mass is currently whiskey and you certainly can not drive anywhere right now.”

“Fine. I can walk.”

“Where are you going to walk to? We’re at the beach house!”

“Goodbye forever, Michael!” Gob pulled at the front door, stumbling from his own over-exertion of force.

Michael sighed, his words only a muttered, “I really don’t think so, but yes, okay, goodbye, Gob.” And he waved without looking as his brother strode out of the petite house. He was done, Michael told himself, done with interfering with this family, done with trying to fix things when no one appreciated him, done-

And Gob was done too. In a different way.


	2. Maebe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not titled after GM because since seasons 4 and 5, I have lost any love for him. Maebe's where it's at.

Stupid Michael. Stupid, controlling, always-has-to-be-right, Michael. Well, he wasn’t going to be controlling with this! Gob was going to handle this himself. He didn’t need Michael’s help - Michael couldn’t help, because this was about Gob, not about him. And Gob could do this.

What was it Michael had said, the morning after Cinco, when he’d seen Tony?  _ I knew it! _ Knew it? Ha! Knew  _ what _ ? There was...there was nothing to know! And then back in the beach house just a moment ago - or was it many moments? How long had he been walking? Shit.. - Michael had said he’d known before, or suspected, or.. Suspected what? Stupid Michael, didn’t have any clue what he was talking about. There was nothing to suspect! Nothing to… There was nothing. Just hands. Just hands, now. Starting now. And then-

Why not? Michael had said. Gob slipped on a curb as the memory played itself back loudly. 

Because why not?

_ The first time, ever I kissed your mouth.. I felt the earth- _

“Uncle Gob!”

He slipped again and swore this time.

“Uncle Gob!” It was Maebe and - God help him - George Michael, pulling up in an alarmingly ostentatious car. Maebe had always embraced her mother’s tastes.

“You’re mistaken,” he dismissed, but the car continued beside him.

“Gob,” Maebe called to him again, leaning out the window, “Michael called us. Get in the car, we’ll take you wherever you wanna go.”

He laughed, loud and fake and just a little bitter. “I am not getting into any car Michael called for me, no, thank you.”

“He told us to stop you from whatever you’re doing. So we’re here to help you do whatever you want instead.”

“I don’t need your help, forgotten-niece and mini-Michael. I can always do what I want to-” He hesitated, acknowledging the contradiction. Gob swallowed, suddenly overwhelmed. “And what I want is to- I’m- this is...this is what I...you don’t know, it’s not….this is…”

“Alright, let’s just grab him while he’s freaking out,” Maebe declared, and opened the car door without warning, causing George Michael to slam the brakes and consequently also slam the vehicle’s door into his uncle. 

Gob went down with a mangled yelp but Maebe simply rolled her eyes and grabbed him under the arms.

“Come on,” she muttered, and half-heaved the stunned man into the front of the car.

George Michael drove uneasily, not wanting to be involved in any of whatever it was they were doing, and not terribly shy about showing his unease. His father had called him thirty minutes earlier, exasperated and just a little panicky that his older brother had wandered drunkenly away from the beach house, and George Michael had been asked - instructed - to locate Gob, accost him, and bring him back where Michael could keep an eye on him. 

Maebe had been...well, she had been  _ with _ George Michael at the time, and her reaction to her uncle’s request was not what George Michael hoped for. But nothing he hadn’t expected all the same.

“Let’s see where he’s going!” She had chirped, grinning widely, dark eyes electric and dangerous. “I bet he’s after Tony Wonder. Man, that’d be great, wouldn’t it? I really thought we’d get more out of that trick with the wall, ya know? Like, it was Tony that was the construction worker trying to save the fake-Gob from the wall, wasn’t it? He totally should have been like, bam! Did somebody say ‘Wonder’? And revealed himself, and then, bam! There’s Gob as the other construction dude! And then Gob’s like, ‘I bet you’re all  _ wondering _ how I got here?’ And then Tony’s like, ‘Because nothing can stop true love!’ You know, like from that Princess Bride movie? I can totally see him quoting that. ‘Nothing can stop true love, not even this wall!’ And then they totally make out, and a banner comes down across the wall that says ‘Love Each Other’ and bam again! They disappear.” She had nodded, pleased with her newly created prestige. “Yeah that’s totally how it shoulda been.”

George Michael had just stared at his cousin during all this, impressed and aroused by - not to say a little frightened of - Maebe’s unnerving ability to spiral into her own intense imagination.

“Yeahhh,” he finally spoke, and his trembling voice gave away all his unease, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea-”

But here they were, shoulders-to-shoulders with hardly the room to breathe between them, in a suffocating silence, driving….somewhere.

“Um, so, where do you want to go, Uncle Gob?” He dared to ask.

Gob opened his mouth in a grin, ready to retort with some half-thought-out offensive comment - but there was a flickering panic behind his eyes, stressed lines in his face, and the grin seemed more like a grimace. No words came out.

Where did he want to go? Where did he want-? Want what? He wanted what? To go… To go to… To be.. He wanted to be, to go to be-... He.. What? What?

Maebe glanced at her struggling uncle and caught George Michael’s uneasy eye across him.

“How about we take you to a hotel, okay, uncle Gob? Then uncle Michael won’t know where you are and you can do whatever you want,” She paused and then couldn’t help but add, “You can go somewhere if you want, or you can have someone come over, and no one would have to know..or, you know, whatever. Does that sound good? Yeah?”

This got Gob’s attention. He jumped and recoiled from Maebe, as though something had suddenly burned him. His shoulder crammed rudely into George Michael. 

“What- Why- Why would I- Who would I have..have come over-? Why would I want- Ha! Yeah. Okay. Sure. Suuure!” Gob laughed loudly, in a panicked, over-compensating way. “Why not.”

“Cool. George Michael, en route to the next most expensive hotel you can find, please!”

George Michael sighed, but didn’t resist. He seldom did.

-

Less than a half hour later, and the trio stood outside the door of a greatly over-priced hotel suite, one of them just as nervous as 30 minutes prior, one a little bored with the situation already, and the third starting to feel the edge of sobriety.

“Here you go,” Maebe announced, as though this was some sort of grand gesture, “Now uncle Michael doesn’t know where you are and you can do whatever you want, with whoever you want-” Gob glanced down the hallway as though expecting a scene, “and nobody can do anything about it!”

“Thanks, I guess,” Gob muttered, all fidgety hands and no eye-contact, “For ruining Michael’s plans and all.”

“I don’t know if- you know, I don’t know how fair that is, actually,” George Michael interrupted, “My dad’s only trying to help-”

“Oh, please,” Maebe cut him off with a snort.

“But you two,” Gob suddenly cut in, unexpectedly sharp and focused on the both of them. “Why did you both come? It’s not like Michael to think of anyone other than his son. Did he actually invite you, Maebe? I mean,” he cocked his head skeptically, “Come on.”

The young pair stared in panicked silence for a few beats too long.

“Hm, yeahh,” Gob mused, and his usual mischievous grin slipped in, “You guys are Tony Wonder-ing it, huh? I mean- I don't mean like  _ you're  _ Tony Wonder,” He laughed, too loud, panicked again, “I mean like me and Tony Wonder- like we- only once, not now, obviously! Not any more. Just hands, right?” A panicked, jittery shrug. “But you two, the two of you, both two of you..both.. you're-”

Now he just pointed rapidly between them, and nodded. “Yeah. Well. Anyway, good thing you're not actually related, huh?” And he laughed again, brash and dismissive. “Well, this has been  _ great _ , thank you both, and now I'm gonna….not have to see you. Bye.”

Gob turned away to the door of the suite and fumbled quickly in his pockets for the keycard, muttering as he did so. 

“By the way, uncle Gob?” Maebe nudged the man and his erratic gaze eventually found her freckles. She smiled in a way that she hoped was reassuring. “I thought it was pretty cool when you were gay. Sucks that it was just, y’know, for the magic trick and stuff, but you were actually kinda cool like that. I liked Gay Gob. Seemed like you did too sometimes.”

Gob did not respond, but chuckled hollowly to himself and stared into a middle distance only he understood.

He could do this.

Why not.


	3. Lucille

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of me: is very aware of how cruel Lucille is toward Gob and wants to use that  
> Also part of me: does not want to bc it hurts  
> ???

Gob lay listless on the plush (but unattractive) couch provided in the hotel suite, gazing distractedly at the dark screen of his phone.

He could do this. Had done this. He _was_ doing this. Well, maybe. Time would tell. He just had to wait and see. Wait…....and see… Damn, he’d forgotten how much he did not like waiting. But if the past several months had taught him anything, they’d certainly taught him how to wait, hadn’t they? Always waiting - for a sign, for a message, for Tony.

It felt like his heart _sighed_ , if such a thing that was possible.

Oh, Tony.

And in the empty, somber stillness of the hotel room, only that thought stayed present:

Oh, Tony.

Oh, Tony.

_First time, ever I layyy, with you…_

Oh, Tony.

_I felt your heart, so close to miiine…_

Gob’s fingers traced over the blank phone screen, making nonsense patterns, and he noticed none of it - until the screen lit up and started to blare his out-dated ringtone, catching him so unawares he jumped and smacked the phone off the couch.

He scrambled for it, breaking out in a cold sweat after being caught off-guard, and clumsily swiped to answer the call.

“Hello?” His greeting was rushed and husky.

“Where the _hell_ have you gone?!” His mother’s voice snarled back at him without introduction, “Everything blows up again and you just disappear? After what we all just went through as a family, I would have really thought you’d stopped being such a coward.”

Right to it, then.

“I’m not a coward!” His voice was a whine and he knew it but how could she do this to him, right now? Then again - this was dear old mother, after all.

“Michael says he found you hiding out as a drunkard in the beach house, wallowing.”

“I want not wal-”

“And then you just run off! Where are you? I’m going to pick you up and we will discuss what to do next, I’m sure Michael will have some idea-”

“I thought you were hiding away from dad?”

There was barely a beat pause across the line. “Your father and I have agreed to keep some space between us for the moment, yes-”

“So much for me being the coward.”

“Don’t get chummy with me!” Lucille snapped immediately and Gob’s gut fell. It was sooo easy for her, wasn’t it? “Now tell me where you are.”

“No,” his reply was short, petulant. Childish, maybe.

A dangerous pause. “No?” Lucille echoed, and he could see the threatening raise her stiff brows would have. “And why not? Still a lonely drunken hideaway, are you?”

“Because I’m not Buster and I don’t need anything from you - least of all your _charming_ presence.” He sneered the words. Happily.

Lucille scoffed, unaffected. “Of course you need me! You’re one of the least independent children of the lot. Certainly the least important, but God knows, as a mother I have to keep track of you sometimes-”

That last part stung - more than a little. It was a familiar needle of pain, something always under Gob’s skin, but which pricked especially nasty once in a while.

Yes, he knew he was potentially the family’s least favourite relative as a whole (although, if they counted Tobias, _surely_ Gob didn’t lose to him, right?) and most definitely his mother held no fondness or vague affection for him, but now was not the time to hear about it again. Not when he now also felt unimportant to someone he wasn’t related to - someone who was important to him, and whom he wanted _so badly_ to matter to. Because eventually, he had to matter to someone, right? Right?

“You’re having another one of your ridiculous little dissociating moments over there right now, aren’t you?” Lucille’s voice snapped in again. “Good lord, you’re a mess! You’ve always been one of course, but ever since your magic little homo-pal tricked you into whatever fucking crisis we just tolerated, well, let’s just say I’m glad we can move on from _that_ show-”

“I wasn’t tricked into anything,” Gob snapped back to attention, and now his tone lost the tolerant annoyance from before. Suddenly, he was colder than he’d ever been. Lucille felt it and paused her berating in surprise. “Tony never tricked me into anything. Well, he tried, but- but that doesn’t count because we were tricking each other- that was a long time ago, it was before Cinco, and it- we didn’t- it wasn’t a trick. It- it wasn’t a crisis. This isn’t Tony’s fault.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Lucille laughed now, mocking and sharp, “Oh no, this is definitely your fault Gob. I would never suggest otherwise, you know that. No, this is your fault for letting him make a damned fool of you, even more so than you’ve ever done to yourself. I must say I’m impressed with him. Giving you a sexuality crisis you would take so seriously you’d make it a public nightmare for the family? Genius on his end - but no, it’s your fault for ever buying into the bullshit and adding to our chaos.”

“ _I_ _t wasn’t a crisis!_ ” Gob nearly snarled, a tone his mother had only ever heard him use on Michael when Gob felt especially overshadowed and ignored. “I wasn’t tricked into this, because I did the same trick to Tony! I can’t be tricked knowing it was a trick! But it worked! And it’s real! And now, now it’s... I know it’s real, it has to be, except it can’t be because..because our careers-”

“Isn’t this the same garbage you were whining about before the parade? It can’t be real because you’re rivals, because of your careers, blah blah blah. Nothing’s changed, Gob! You’re still letting him make a gibbering queer fool out of you!”

“It has changed!” He argued like a child, but with the same determination, “And if Tony’s made me into a gibbering queer fool, it’s because I _am_ a gibbering queer fool, and always have been, but now I know it too!”

"Boy, that second-rate poof really did a number on you, didn't he? If you don't stop this melodrama soon, people really are going to believe you got fucked by another man and it ruined what little psyche you had to start with, and that's-"

"I _did_ sleep with him, mom," Gob blundered into her ranting, and his chest was tight.

There a pause on the other line, much too long. She was waiting for him to pull a "gotcha!" kind of scene.

"I beg your pardon?" Now it was his turn to remain silent. To anyone else in the family - the world - maybe he could have proudly repeated himself. Not with her. "Gob you cannot be seri- It actually _happened_?!"

"Y-Yes."

"What the hell were you thinkin-"

"It doesn't matter! It happened! And it- it- I- I understand now! I do!" He was getting frantic, building himself up to a moment.

“Do you even hear yourself-”

“No, mom!” Gob shouted now, so wound up he could hardly breathe, “You have to hear me! I love Tony Wonder! And I know the family has heard and seen a lot of garbage with me in the past few months because of Tony but it was never just a show. I spent a lot of time hoping I was wrong about things but now I’m not! And I’m glad I’m not! Because I love Tony Wonder!” He laughed, a breathy, high-pitched, frantic sound, and his voice jumped to match it. “I love Tony Wonder! And it’s great! But it’s also awful because I don’t know if- if- if we- because we said we- j-just, just hands-” He swallowed, trying to calm himself for a moment. "I'm, I'm _real_ about this, mom. Maybe no one ever takes me seriously, but I am real about this. Maebe knows, I think. She said...she seems...I think she gets me-"

Lucille laughed brutally. "Oh heavens, no, not that one too? Lindsey's daughter is a conniving little nightmare, I'd watch out if I were you."

Gob resisted. "No, she was right. I liked- liked myself-.. And Michael too, he, he knew, he knew how-" but he was dismissed and interrupted, to no surprise.

"If you and your magician pal really are mutual homosexuals like you claim, then where is he? Where is your Tony Wonder now, hm?” God, she was relentless.

“He- He’s- He’s-” Gob fumbled anxiously.

“Yes?” Lucille’s innocent question was ice cold.

“He’s finally someone who thinks- who treats me- who- who sees me as, as important, and-”

“That’s not what I asked, Gob.”

Sweat creeped upon his neck and his voice came out breathy and high again. “That doesn’t- it doesn’t matter! Who cares! Doesn’t matter! He’s- fine! It’s fine. Because I- This isn't about you, any of you! This is about _me_! I know, I know- I love Tony Wonder! And it’s fine! Because why not?” And there was that terrible, panicky laugh again, “Why not? Why-”

A faint knock on the door of the hotel suite cut him off. Gob paused, not sure what he’d heard.

“God, this is so much worse than I thought. I don’t know how, but you do always surprise me-”

Another knock.

“Bye, mom.” Gob said absentmindedly into the phone.

“Excuse me? I have definitely not finished with you-”

But he clicked the phone off and let it fall from his hand on to the couch, just before his legs drug his body toward the hotel door. Only a specific few people knew where he was. A very specific few.

That uncomfortable sweat was on the back of his neck again. A nervous shiver ran up his spine, and Gob pulled the door open.

Seeing his guest, he took a slow breath.

“How long have you been there?”


	4. Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I could've drug this chapter on for years, friends. I never want them to stop interacting. (but lucky for all of us, I've recently lost a lot of spare time to write in, so the whole story has been kept pretty short)

“How long have you been there?”

“Ever since I heard you say you..love Tony Wonder.”

“Wh-Which time?”

Tony’s brows raised and he smirked, pausing intentionally. “Every time.”

“Well, uh, that’s kinda weird, huh,” Gob tried to laugh, to brush off this entire situation that he’d brought upon himself. “Just standing outside the door listening to a private conversation? Pssh, that’s- that’s kinda- kinda weird, ya know. Like, who does that?” He attempted a laugh again; it came out more like a giggle.

Gob was a trembling, stuttering mess and Tony stood watching him fondly, calm and sure and warm. If there was ever an exact image of their dynamic - this was it, and they both knew it.

“I mean, you  _ did _ call me and ask me to come over,” Tony smirked again. He wanted to make Gob work for this: their competitive streak could never be quenched.

“Well sure, but you could’ve knocked sooner.”

“And miss hearing you fawn over me to your mother? Yeah, like I’d interrupt that.”

“I-I didn’t- wasn’t fawning over you, I just-”

“Are you going to invite me in?” Tony grinned in that big, charismatic way he knew how to work, the grin he knew would evoke a blush across Gob’s face - as it just had. And boy, that was a nice look. 

Gob stepped back without a word and lead Tony to the mini bar the room provided. “Um,” He shifted through the few bottles. He hadn’t drunk yet since entering the suite, his body had been too busy clearing up the last fifth of whiskey he’d ingested from the beach house, and now he was at a loss for what to offer. None of the labels in front of him seemed to make sense right now.

“I’ll get a gin,” Tony offered, and stepped past Gob to make his own glass. Gob inhaled sharply as Tony’s smaller frame brushed against him - with utter intention - and deftly threw together ice, gin, tonic water, and lime, his shoulder or elbow grazing against Gob as he moved in the small space of the bar.

Once the drink was made, Tony Wonder finally looked up at his - friend, rival, one-time-accidental-lover, competitor - and when his eyes met Gob’s, the smirk he’d been prepared with faltered. Gob was nearly holding his breath in their close proximity, his face was flushed with nerves, and his bright eyes skittered across Tony’s face. This was not a game and Tony immediately regretted his blasé attitude since standing in the hall; he hadn’t meant to cause his - .. _ companion _ \- any more anxiety. Goodness knows, Gob generally didn’t need much help in that department.

“So… You were pretty flustered on the phone. Are things okay?” Tony took a conversational sip of the gin and tonic. “It kinda looks like the last couple days have had their way with you.” He set the sentence up intentionally, knowing Gob as well as he knew himself. Same.

And just as Tony had hoped, Gob opened his mouth in a half-grin, ready to twist the words into an easy innuendo ( _ not like I’d like to have my way with YOU..)  _ and then he stopped short.

“Yeah, I suppose they have,” he finished lamely instead.

Tony set his drink down, no longer wanting the distraction. 

“You didn’t say what you wanted to talk about. You just sounded...y’know, not great, and told me it was urgent.” He shifted, focusing on the taller man.

“It..it is, I guess,” Gob started. He was looking at the ground as he spoke, fidgety and flighty. He looked delightful when worked up and upon realizing this, Tony swallowed uneasily, trying to refocus.

“So what is it?”

“It’s-... I-....” Gob stopped again, on the verge of frantic stammering, trying to rein it in. He stared at Tony, who was even closer than the last time they’d seen each other, when they’d exchanged frantic words behind the set of the border wall illusion. Gob not only stared but gazed, with lovesick eyes and weary desperate lines in his face. “I’m really glad to see you.”

Both of the magicians felt the inadequacy of the sentence and understood it well.

“Same,” Tony answered softly. 

“It’s been so long, ya know?”

“It’s been like, maybe three days, Gob,” Tony argued warmly, another soft smile on his face.

“No- no, yeah, since the illusion, sure,” Gob fumbled again and Tony felt a tingle across his skin, “But what I mean is...it’s just… Since Cinco, I mean. That was a long time ago. And, and before that, it was even longer! You just- you know, we only had a couple calls really, and never really- we never talked- I mean, we talked, sure, but not about- we never said- we never knew. I never knew, right?”

“You never knew what? We talked man, we definitely talked. Remember that time I was in the suitcase? I thought that made sense.”

“Did it?” Gob’s words were lightning quick, catching Tony off-guard.

“Did…” Tony faltered now, feeling the pull of Gob’s intent. Still wanting to keep what little upper-hand he had.

“Did it make sense?” Now Gob’s look was open and urgent, his larger body radiating a panicked heat. He looked strangely fragile - and fucking divine, Tony decided. “Did it make sense to you? Has- Has any of this made sense to you?”

Tony felt control slide out of his grip. He was caught off-guard. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

Gob squirmed, all electric, frantic energy again. “Exactly! And I don’t want to not know or not do anything anymore! I had to...to  _ do _ , you know? Because I already tried..tried going back. After you disappeared at the parade. I tried to act like nothing had happened - but it had happened! And then I was reminded of that gremlin from the movie, ya know, with the  _ ‘do or do not, there is no try’ _ thing-”

“I'm pretty sure you mean Yoda and the movie was Star Wars.”

“Mmm, I am  _ pretty _ sure it was a gremlin. Anyway-”

“So you heard Yoda somewhere and decided to  _ do _ something after all?”

“Yeah! I decided to do something!” Gob practically jumped, “Exactly! I..I knew you'd get it.”

He was breathing heavily, that red flush across his cheekbones again, exerting himself with his own anxiety. His blue eyes stood out like tropical pools, Tony thought. And his breath definitely reeked of whiskey.

“So what is it you decided to do-?”

Tony was cut off by, as he should have expected, Gob’s mouth being shoved against his. It was a clumsy, hard kiss, warm lips against warm lips, with Gob grabbing hold of Tony’s forearm as he kissed him, as though to keep himself from fleeing the scene.

And Tony kissed back, just as sloppily excited and anxious as Gob was, only better at hiding it before - before Gob pummeled past all their boundaries, and took exactly what Tony wanted him to take: a good, deep, messy kiss they’d never been able to openly have.

Gob had a tight grip on Tony’s arm and Tony pulled at Gob’s collar with his free hand, both of them trying to out-do one another in their desperation to feel closer. Each of their bodies thrummed with jittery nerves, pushing against each other and fumbling together; this was a world different from their masked Cinco sex so long ago, this was-

“This is exactly what I want,” Gob mumbled in a quick grab for air.

Tony nodded, his eyes wide and ironically youthful in their surprised innocence. “S-Same.” 

He tugged sharply at Gob’s collar again, pulling the man close him and kissing him, hard and hungry. He felt Gob’s tongue rush into his mouth, demanding, but welcomed, and something in his legs went weak. 

“You’re really good at this,” he whispered, lips brushing against Gob’s.

“I know,” Gob replied nonchalantly, and pushed his hefty frame closer into Tony’s smaller one, nearly shoving the man up onto the bar counter at this point. “So are you,” he added.

“I know,” Tony replied, tit-for-tat, and he had only the time for the very start of that charismatic grin before Gob nipped playfully at his chin and then suffocated them both with another bout of deep, hungry kisses.

The making out spiraled, as anything is wont to do with the two ostentatious magicians, and they found the sensation of seeing and knowing each other’s bodies truthfully, without the pretense of masks (both physical and verbal), to be an even more intense allure than it had been before.

Shirt collars were rent apart, waistbands of trousers were explored, bodies moved and firmed against one another, until Tony shoved determinedly at his counterpart, muttering something about not getting fucked against a counter, and they sloppily danced/shifted themselves to a fumbling pile on the luxurious couch. Gob was pushed onto the deep cushions and Tony draped over him, his mouth on Gob’s throat in a way that made everything tingle - for them both. Gob squirmed, and then winced - pausing, he fumbled beneath himself and came up with his phone, having laid awkwardly on it.

“You don’t want to guess where that was trying to go,” he joked, and at Tony’s know-all grin, found himself blushing again.

“I think that’s _my_ privilege, isn’t it?” Tony purred, and Gob’s color only deeped. “Shy now?” He teased, and stretched his body out alongside Gob on the couch - alarmingly, it was wide enough to almost hold them both lying down, Gob on his back, Tony on his side, body flush against the other man’s, and propped up on his elbow to better watch Gob’s face.

“Tony?” Gob’s voice was suddenly small, and his friend noticed, sobering in return.

“Yeah?”

“What about… Is, is this.. We said, I mean, last time we saw each other, at the illusion, we said-”

“I know what we said.”

“Well this is definitely not that.”

“Hmm, it kind of is,” Tony debated, “I mean we haven’t actually-”

“But I want to,” Gob blurted, and Tony openly laughed at the expression that immediately followed the outburst. His laughter, however, didn’t come across as warmly as he’d intended.

“Sorry you find that  _ ridiculous _ ,” Gob squirmed, his animated face shutting down, hurt and embarrassed and foolish as ever. He fidgeted to get away from Tony and off the awkward position on the couch. “But joke’s on you, I was kidding! Why- Why would I want- I don’t- Why should-”

“Oh would you calm down,” Tony gently reprimanded, pulling Gob to him. The larger man pouted, back in his original position. “I want to too, you idiot, trust me.”

Gob hesitated. “Then why did you always push me away and try to say we couldn’t hang out together and tour and, y’know, spend time together, and...and stuff?”

“Because of our brands! You know that. And the whole Sally Sitwell thing, that’s always been a mess-”

“Yeah she seems like it.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You have no idea. She gets sooo jealous of me spending any time with anyone or talking about another guy-”

“Other guys?” Gob’s voice was sharp, and Tony smiled crookedly, warmly.

“Always you,” he replied, “She complained that I always talked about you.”

“Really? Because my family complained that I always talked about you!”

“See!” Tony gushed, “We’re awesome for each other!”

“Totally awesome for each other,” Gob agreed, and he finally grinned back at his friend.

“So is this why you’re hiding in a hotel and both look and smell like you’ve been on a multi-day-bender? Because of...our….us?”

“Of course,” Gob replied easily, more at ease with himself while with Tony than at any other point in his life so far - something he was only beginning to note. “I knew I had to _do_ something.”

“Like make out with me.”

Gob grinned now. “Something like that.”

“Well-” Tony smiled back and leaned down to kiss Gob again, more composed this time, blissful and giddy. 

Gob slid his hands around Tony’s waist, easing the smaller man over his body, feeling the weight of Tony settle onto him like a living blanket - keeping him grounded and reassured. Exactly the comfort he needed.

_ And I knew our joy, would fill the earth… _

“I think I love you, Gob. Full-on, gay-love love you. And I was pretty sure I wasn’t gay.”

“Well that’s very flattering, coming from a publicly gay magician.”

Tony chuckled against Gob’s cheek. “Yeah, because you’re so very Christian, right?”

Gob kissed him as a response, and there was certainly nothing Christian about the next several seconds.

“I do though,” Tony broke away with a soft gasp, his breath hot against Gob’s skin, “I love you, Gob.”

“Same.”

Tony pulled back sharply, to better look down at his partner and fasten him with an appropriate glare, dissatisfied with the simple response - but Gob laughed, big and full-bellied, having succeeded in a minor revenge. Tony’s mouth twisted into a smirk against his will.

“Not cool.”

“Awesome,” Gob corrected, and his laughter was youthful and delightful and lit him up into a dazzling sight for Tony, who couldn’t help but slip his hands under Gob’s shirt and run them up his sides. Gob nearly choked in surprise. It turned into a soft groan instead. “I love you too,” he breathed, nuzzling his forehead against Tony’s.

“What about your family? Weren’t they a bit of a nightmare when you fake-came-out?”

Gob practically rolled his eyes - what timing, honestly! He squirmed under Tony’s touch, the hands still teasing the skin at his ribs. “Fuck ‘em,” he breathed, “This isn’t about them. This is about me - and you. It’s us, now.”

Tony grinned, having expected this, but also having wanted confirmation that the one competition he feared existed for Gob’s affections - that misplaced loyalty to the family that undervalued him as a person and certainly as a magician - was no longer a real concern. His ego needed that, he was not at all ashamed to admit. After all, he knew Gob would get it.

“Then let’s have some time, just for us.”


End file.
